


Come What May

by flimflam99



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 07:44:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10759833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flimflam99/pseuds/flimflam99
Summary: Yet another take on the events after that phone call (will I ever get over that?).  Molly wasn't having a good day to start with and that day just got worse....





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think both Sherlock and Molly are a bit OOC in this one, but then they've both been through an emotional wringer and who would be acting normally after that! This was only going to be a one chapter fic but both Molly and Sherlock had more to say. I love it when the characters take over. On my first fic Mycroft got involved and the story went in a completely different direction!

“I don’t want anybody else to know about this.” Molly glared at Greg Lestrade. She was in a private office in St. Barts with the Detective Inspector, a female doctor called Dotty who she barely knew and a nurse called Fliss. The nurse had just finished treating the bruises already beginning to form on her arms. “I mean it Greg, I just want to forget this ever happened. The man’s got mental health problems, I don’t see the point in reporting it.”

Greg sighed heavily. “Molly, he assaulted you. You should report it.” 

“He’s not well. He’s being looked after that’s the main thing. All I want now is to forget about it.” Molly got up from the chair in which she had been sitting and resolutely made her way to the door. Her arms and stomach hurt. All she wanted to do was to just get away. She opened the door and marched down the hallway, Lestrade following her.

“Molly!” Molly sighed and turned. Greg’s face was full of concern. “I don’t think you can keep this a secret really, can you? Sherlock is bound to find out. Hell, he’ll probably just take one look at you and know.”

“Lucky for me then that he’s not here isn’t it? I’ll just keep away from him for a few days. In fact I’ve got some leave due so I might see if I can take a few days off and go away for a bit.” Molly quite liked that thought. The last few weeks had been extremely difficult both emotionally and physically. She had lost her friend Mary, John had been absolutely grief stricken over his wife’s death and blamed Sherlock. Sherlock had in return resorted to drugs and got involved in some case where he got beaten up (although as Molly discovered later that was John’s doing) and almost got murdered by a serial killer. Molly had been either looking after Rosie, helping John cope with his grief, keeping an eye on Sherlock while he went ‘cold turkey’ or at work. She was absolutely exhausted. To cap it off she had just come out of the morgue when she was physically attacked by some man, who grabbed her by the arms and shook her, before kicking her in the stomach and punching her in the shoulder. 

“Don’t tell him anything Greg. I mean it. If you have any respect for me at all, as a friend, I don’t want him to know. ” Molly held her breath. Greg was silent for a long time and then nodded.

\-------------------------------------------

Molly was at home on the computer. She had just booked a two week stay at a cottage in Devon, near the sea. As it was out of season it was really cheap. She also booked her train ticket. She had been to see her boss at Bart’s and because of what had happened and the hospital wanted to keep it quiet she was given two weeks compassionate leave. 

Molly’s arms hurt though and her stomach felt really bad. She decided to make some tea and went into the Kitchen. She put the kettle on and leaned against the sink, god that hurt though. Her mobile started to ring. She glanced at the phone on the counter. It was Sherlock. Molly decided not to answer, let it ring. It stopped but then almost immediately started ringing again. It was unlike Sherlock to phone once let along twice so Molly answered it.

“Hello Sherlock, is this urgent because I’m not having a good day”……………………….  
\-------------------------  
Molly put the phone down tears welling in her eyes and running down her face. How could he? How could he do that to her? Molly laughed bitterly. And she thought they were friends. Well she had put up a fight before saying it, getting him to say it first. Molly went into the bathroom and wiped her face. Her train was booked for first thing in the morning but there was no way she was staying in her flat until then. Molly went into her bedroom and started to pack.

\-------------------------

The hotel Molly booked herself into was right next door to Paddington Station. It was cheap but Molly didn’t mind as she would only be there for one night. She didn’t even unpack just opened her suitcase and left it on the floor. She got undressed, got into the surprisingly comfy bed and turned the telly on. She couldn’t concentrate on the telly though as all she could think about was that phone call. There was something not right about it and she hadn’t heard anything from Sherlock since. He’d got her to say those words and then he’d just hung up. Molly tossed and turned for most of the night, the thoughts in her head and pain in her arms and stomach making it impossible to sleep.

\--------------------

The first text came through just as she boarded the train at Paddington.

“I need to see you, explain. Can I come round? SH”

Molly ignored it.

“Molly? I just need to explain”

“I’m coming round anyway”

Twenty minutes later her phone pinged again.

“Molly, where the hell are you?”

“Molly please! Where are you?”

The next text was different.

“You ok, Molly? Just let us know you are ok. JW”

Molly stiffened, knowing full well that Sherlock had got John involved. She texted back quickly.

“I’m ok. Taking holiday for a couple of weeks, sorry about leaving you in the lurch with Rosie. Turning phone off now”. She sent the message and then turned off her phone and resolutely turned to the window.

\----------------

 

Molly parked her hire car in front of the garage and got out. The cottage was only single-storey but it was picturesque. It overlooked the sea. The bedroom was large and the Living Room had a lovely fireplace with a Kitchen area at the back. The views were wonderful. She had spent the last week exploring and this afternoon had gone into the local town to buy a few groceries. It was starting to get dark so Molly quickly got out and got her groceries before scurrying up the path to the cottage. Molly put her bags down by the door so that she could open the lock. Then a shadow moved out of the darkness and Molly shrieked and nearly fell over the threshold as the door gave way. The shadow moved into the light from the open doorway. It was Sherlock. Molly stared at him, the shock quickly giving way to anger. Molly moved by instinct and dove through the door and tried to slam it shut. Sherlock’s foot stopped it shutting completely. ‘I don’t know why I’m bothering’ thought Molly. ‘He can pick the lock if he wants anyway.’ She moved away from the door and sank onto the sofa pulling her knees up and burying her head in them.

Sherlock walked in, carrying her groceries, and she heard him opening the fridge freezer and putting the cold stuff away. He hadn’t said anything and Molly refused to speak to him first. She felt him move passed her to the fireplace and then heard a log being thrown on the fire which she had banked down before leaving.

“Aren’t you going to take your coat off?” Molly stiffened at the casualness of his words. Is that all he had to say? 

“I’m fine as I am thanks” Molly mumbled into her knees. Sherlock huffed and she felt him thump down on the sofa next to her.

“Well, this is cosy, isn’t it? All we need is a cat lying in front of the fire and we would be the epitome of domesticated bliss.” Sherlock mused. Molly looked disbelievingly up at him to find him looking straight at her. The room was shadowy as the only light came from the fire and the light near the front door so she couldn’t see his face properly. She knew what she should be saying ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ but she was damned if she was going to ask that. She stood and went into the Kitchen, filled up the kettle and took two mugs down. ‘Wait, what?’ put one mug back and put a teabag into the other one. Sherlock came and stood beside her, noticing just the one mug. 

“Aren’t you going to make me a cup?” Molly stared at her mug.

“You won’t be staying long enough” she managed to croak out. Sherlock sighed again, and reached over her to take down a mug for himself. Molly noticed that he had taken his coat off. She moved away and took her scarf and coat off and put them on the hanger. She then went and sat in the armchair by the fire, leaving Sherlock to make the drinks. Sherlock put her tea and his coffee on the coffee table and then sat back on the sofa, the side nearest to her.

“We need to talk Molly” He began. Molly snorted, her face turned to the fire. She couldn’t look at him, she just wished he would go and leave her in peace. Molly snorted again. Fat chance.

“I’m serious, Molly. There are things you need to know and things I need to explain….. Molly, I…….. Are you listening?” He growled at the end. Molly had gone back to sitting with her head on her knees, which wasn’t really helping her stomach, and had wrapped her arms over her head. She was humming to herself. She knew it was childish but, sod it, she didn’t care.

Sherlock stood up and grasping her wrist, pulled her up off the chair to stand in front of him. He took hold of her other wrist, holding them loosely, Molly didn’t try to free them. She focused on one of his shirt buttons. Sherlock took a deep breath.

“Molly we need to talk about your security.” Molly’s head snapped up, she wasn’t expecting him to say that. “What?” she breathed faintly. Sherlock smiled grimly. He let go of her wrists and taking her by the hand tugged her towards the sofa. They sat facing one another, Molly was looking at their joined hands. Her hands were so small compared to his. 

“Some things have happened recently that, well, it puts you at greater risk. You can’t just run off without telling someone where you’re going. Anything could have happened.” Sherlock was squeezing her hand tightly.

“What are you talking about? I don’t need your permission to go on holiday, Sherlock. Bloody hell, you’re unbelievable.” Molly tried to pull her hand away but Sherlock wouldn’t let go. She could feel her face heating up. 

“It’s not my permission you need!” Sherlock smiled grimly. “I said it was about your security. There is concern that you may be at greater risk than we first thought. You’ve always been under minor protection since you helped me fake my death. But now, some things have come to light that mean you have to have greater protection.”

Molly frowned. She’d always known that she was under ‘government protection’ of some sort after Sherlock’s fake death but had never really noticed it.

“What things have come to light?” She saw Sherlock swallow and he caressed her hand gently before letting go of her.

“I’ll explain that later. But you have to make a choice Molly. You can stay here, have a break, that’s fine. But you can’t stay here on your own. Either I stay with you or someone from Mycroft’s team will have to stay with you.”

“Absolutely out of the question” Molly flew off the sofa to stand over Sherlock. “No. No. No!”

Sherlock sat there, hands on his knees, head down. 

“That’s the choice.”

“Well I’m not choosing either one of those.”

“Then I’ll have to take you back to London, specifically to Baker Street. Your belongings are being taken there. You’ll be safe there, I promise you.”

“Baker Street? My belongings……… in Baker Street. I have my own flat, that’s perfectly safe, thanks Sherlock” she spat bitterly.

“Where somebody got in and placed cameras all over your flat, monitoring you 24/7? Where we also thought there might have been an explosive device hidden? Yeah, you were really safe there Molly.” Sherlock thundered sarcastically without stopping to think.

Molly blanched and her knees gave way so she ended up kneeling in front of Sherlock resting her hands on his knees so she didn’t fall over. He steadied her with his hands around her waist, he suddenly rested his forehead against hers. Molly was silently crying.

“I’m sorry, Molly. This is all my fault.” Molly stiffened and moved her head away from his. 

“That phone call” She whispered.

Sherlock looked up at her, he looked, just for a moment, as if he was distraught. Molly couldn’t stand him looking like that, she brought her hands up to his cheek unconsciously stroking it. 

“That phone call” He agreed.

Molly froze, dropping her hands back down to her sides. This was it, the moment where he tells her he didn't mean it. Molly stood up breaking out of his embrace and turning away.

“I don't want to talk about that.”

“We need to talk about it Molly.” Sherlock spoke softly.

“But not now. When I get back. You can come to Barts. We'll talk then.”

“Why would I do that when you'll be living with me at Baker Street?” He quizzed confused. 

“Because I'm not going to move in with you at Baker Street.” Molly was adamant.

“I think you’ll find you already have, your belongings have been moved in there”. Sherlock smirked. It was the smirk that did it, Molly had had enough. She moved as close to him as possible and pushed her face into his. She was furious with him for being manipulated. 

“Burn it, burn it all” she said fiercely and then she turned and ran into the bedroom slamming the door.

\-----------------------------

It was a couple of hours later and Molly was absolutely starving. It didn’t help that she could smell something cooking. Molly got up, this was no good. She needed food. She opened the door and walked into the Living/Kitchen area. Sherlock turned to her. He was cooking something in a frying pan.

“I was just about to come and get you, sit down, it’ll be ready in a couple of minutes.” Sherlock smiled briefly at her and then turned back to the stove. Molly inwardly shrugged. She sat down at the table, which had been laid complete with bottle of wine, Molly helped herself to a glass and feeling a bit reckless downed it in one, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and replenishing her glass from the bottle. Sherlock spun round with the plates, putting them down on the table. He sat down, looked at the wine bottle and then looked at Molly. His eyebrows rose a little and Molly gave him an innocent look in return. Sherlock didn’t say anything.

Molly tucked into her cheese and bacon omelette (which was really quite tasty, Sherlock could cook? Who knew!) When she had finished, she sat back with her glass of wine in her hands.

“You don’t have to move in with me in Baker Street.” Molly looked up sharply. She caught her breath. It was the first time she had really seen Sherlock’s face. He looked so tired and careworn as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I spoke to Mycroft. You have two other choices. You can stay at my parents’ house, in Sussex, or you can have a complete change of identity and leave the UK and live in another country.”

Molly gasped. “And those are the choices? Not very realistic are they? What about my job?”

Sherlock cleared his throat and took a sip of his wine. He’d hardly touched his, whereas Molly had nearly finished her second. He shrugged.

“Unfortunately we don’t know who else was involved in…. what happened and we don’t know how long this situation will last, so changing your identity might be at bit drastic at this stage. My parents live in the countryside, in the middle of nowhere, so you won’t be able to commute to London.”

Molly finished the rest of her wine and helped herself to another glass, taking another long mouthful of it. She didn’t look at Sherlock. Molly let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob. 

“You don’t have to decide now, Molly. Why don’t you sleep on it? However you do need to decide if you want me to stay or whether you would prefer one of Mycroft’s people?” Sherlock spoke softly, gently almost. Molly looked up surprised but his expression was unreadable, a mask.

Molly didn’t know what to decide. She’d spent the last two hours thinking of it. Part of the reason she was here was to get away from Sherlock for a bit, but then she didn’t want a stranger here either. And she was frightened after what Sherlock had said about her safety, despite her bravado in front of him. She felt safe with Sherlock, even now when she was so angry with him, she still felt safer with him being here.

“You can stay. I don’t care where you sleep, but you’re not having my bed. And just for the record you can tell this ‘we’ you keep going on about that I am not happy about this and I expect to be compensated for this intrusion.” And with that Molly picked up her glass and the bottle of wine and went back into her room, slamming the door.

\--------------------

Molly had finally fallen asleep after finishing the bottle of wine but woke in the early hours of the morning by a loud thump and a curse from the Living Room. Molly got up out of bed, pulled on her dressing gown and went to investigate. She found, to her amusement, that Sherlock had obviously tried to fit himself into the small sofa to sleep and had just tumbled off of it. He was trying, unsuccessfully, to extricate himself from the blankets which had got tangled over his legs. Molly went over to help.

“Are you ok?” Molly asked quietly. Sherlock just grunted, he looked half asleep still. Molly bit her lip so that she wouldn’t laugh. Molly found herself feeling sorry for him. Sherlock got up and scowled at her. 

“Don’t laugh”. He grumbled.

“Sorry. Look you can’t sleep on that sofa, you have the bed. I’ll sleep here.” Molly turned towards the bedroom but Sherlock just stood there. 

“I’m awake now. I don’t need much sleep, thank you.” He said stiffly, sitting back down on the couch.

“Oh for god’s sake.” Molly huffed at him. She took his hand and pulled. Sherlock didn’t move, just raised his eyebrows. Molly sat down next to him. 

“You’re tired Sherlock. You need to sleep, so please just for once in your life, do what your body needs and not what your mind thinks it needs.” Molly was still holding his hand. Even after all these years of knowing him, she’d hardly ever touched him and yet today they had touched one another more than ever and he actually didn’t seem to mind. Molly put the thought to one side as Sherlock started to speak.

“I can’t take your bed Molly, you’re tired too. You won’t fit on this thing either.” 

“Then we’ll share the bed, it’s huge, you could probably stretch out sideways on it and still have room left over.” Molly got up and this time Sherlock allowed her to pull him up too. “I’ll just go to the loo” Molly said and disappeared into the bathroom. It wasn’t until she was washing her hands that she suddenly thought about the bruises on her arms and shoulder. She found the long sleeved t-shirt she was wearing earlier which she had left on the chair in the bathroom and put it on over her strappy vest top and pyjama bottoms she was wearing. She turned her back and looked over her shoulder into the mirror. You couldn’t see the bruise and the long sleeves of the t-shirt would cover the bruises on her arms. She should be alright then. 

She went into the bedroom. Sherlock was already lying on his back in bed on the side she hadn’t been sleeping on. She moved to the other side, slid into bed and turned the light off on her side, which plunged the room into darkness. She turned on her side away from Sherlock and snuggled down. She inched her way closer to the edge of the bed.

“You’ll fall out if you move any further away.” Sherlock rumbled. “We could always put a sword between us. That’s what they did in olden days.” He mused. Molly sighed and turned onto her back. She winced and breathed in sharply as she felt the bruise on her shoulder against the pillow. He turned over to face her. “Are you ok?”

“Just caught my hair. Do you have a sword?” Molly asked conversationally.

“No. I’ve got a gun.”

“I don’t think that will have the same effect.” Molly giggled quietly. 

“You don’t have to worry, I won’t try to ravish you.” Sherlock turned over away from her. Shame thought Molly. She moved over slightly towards him so that she wasn’t quite on the edge of the bed and then turned away from him too and went to sleep.

\--------------------------

Molly couldn’t get him off of her. She was lying on the floor and somebody was lying on top of her and she couldn’t breathe. His hot breath puffed over her face as he rained blows down on her face. Molly whimpered…..

She felt her arm being roughly shaken.

“Molly, wake up.” Molly opened her eyes. Sherlock was leaning over her peering down at her. He’d put the lamp on from his side of the bed. Molly took a deep breath. Sherlock moved back as she pulled back the covers to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, sorry. Must have had a bad dream.” Molly stood up and went over to the window. She felt so hot. She had too many layers on. She opened the window slightly to let some cool air in. “Do you mind? It’s a bit stuffy in here.” She turned to look at Sherlock who was half sat up in bed, leaning on one of his hands. He shook his head. Molly went into the bathroom and took off her strappy top underneath the long sleeved one. She got back into bed turning away from Sherlock. He switched off the light.

“What were you dreaming about?” He asked gruffly.

“Can’t remember” Molly whispered.

“You said ‘no’ a couple of times”

“Really? Can’t remember anything. That’s the trouble with dreams isn’t it?” 

Sherlock didn’t answer and Molly fell back to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

When Molly woke up it was mid-morning and Sherlock had already got up. Molly stretched and got out of bed and went into the bathroom to have a shower. She then got dressed and went into the Living Room. Sherlock was already dressed and was making breakfast. Molly sat at the table and idly watched him making use of the frying pan again. How domesticated.

“Can you cook?” She asked curiously.

“I can boil an egg, make an omelette and fry bacon. And I know how to put a ready meal in the oven” Sherlock turned to her and winked.

Molly blushed. Sherlock had winked at her? And he was wearing that purple shirt…. Molly started to feel hot again. Where did he get dressed? Molly had visions of him getting dressed in the bedroom while she was fast asleep, completely ignorant. What a waste of a view. She picked up a glass of water which Sherlock had left on the table for her and took a hasty sip.

“Molly?” Molly looked up, her face crimson. Sherlock frowned and then smirked. He put the plate of bacon and eggs down in front of her before taking the chair next to her. Last night he had sat opposite her. He seemed to be really close to her, almost looming over her.

Molly stood up, Sherlock seemed about to say something but she quickly went to the cupboard to find some tomato sauce. 

“Have you had breakfast?” Molly asked, sitting down again but moving her chair slightly away from him. 

“I had breakfast hours ago.” Molly nodded and after covering her eggs and bacon with sauce proceeded to eat it. Sherlock got up and went to sit on the sofa. Molly washed her plate up.

“Molly, we need to talk about the other day. I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to but we need to talk” Sherlock stared at her from the sofa. Molly nodded slowly. He was right, she was running away from the inevitable and it wasn’t fair on either of them. And her heart was breaking because she knew she wouldn’t be able to be in his life anymore. She had told him her biggest secret and she wouldn’t be able to take it back. Even without this new threat to her life she had no other choice but to choose a new life. She would talk to Mycroft and make sure that Sherlock didn’t know where she was going. It would be a one way ticket and it would be forever.

She realised that Sherlock was waiting for her to say something. 

“Let’s go for a walk, get some fresh air. There’s a really nice view just up the cliff a bit more with a bench we can sit on. Might as well have a nice view”. She smiled bravely and Sherlock smiled just as bravely back.

\---------------------------

They walked up along the grass towards the top of the cliff. The closer they got to the top the more Molly wanted to turn and run back. Sherlock for once was matching her stride not flouncing on ahead. They didn’t say anything to each other as they walked. Eventually the bench came in sight and they both sat down. They both stared out to sea. Then Sherlock started to talk…………….  
\-----------------------

Molly held Sherlock tightly in her arms as he sobbed against her chest. One of her hands gently rubbed his back while the other tangled into his curls. Molly couldn’t believe what she had heard. Her heart broke at the thought of Sherlock as a little boy losing his best friend and what he had gone through just over a week ago. And she had made it worse for him albeit unwittingly. At least she knew now that it was not true and it was in fact, in a way, for a case. He’d begged her forgiveness for making her say it and of course she had forgiven him. She loved him, how could she not? 

Molly realised that Sherlock was starting to shiver despite his thick coat. This was worse than after the fall, which was the only other time that Sherlock had cried in front of her. When he realised what he had done to his friends in order to keep them safe. She had held him then, much as she did now but he had quickly withdrawn into himself, presenting a blank face to the world.

“You’re cold. Let’s go back to the cottage.” Molly pulled away from him, wiped his tears away with her fingers and persuaded him to get up. He was quite unsteady on his feet, he seemed completely exhausted. The adrenaline which had kept him going the last few days suddenly leaving him. Molly put her arm round his waist and they slowly made their way back down.

Back at the cottage, Molly sat Sherlock on the sofa and made them both a cup of sweet tea and then opened a tin of soup. Sherlock was still in his coat and was shivering. Molly poked the fire until it started to blaze away merrily. She brought the soup over to Sherlock who had finished his tea.

“Have some soup, it will make you feel better.” Sherlock took the bowl and spoon and Molly went into the Kitchen to help herself to some. She sat in the chair to eat her soup. When they’d finished she dumped the crockery in the sink and just left it. She felt far too tired to wash up. Sherlock had taken his coat off and slung it over the back of the chair. He sat on the sofa with his head back and eyes shut, but when she passed him, he took hold of her wrist and pulled her down next to him. He pulled her against his chest, stroking her hair. They both fell asleep holding one another.

\-------------------

When Molly awoke she was still cuddled against Sherlock’s chest. She pulled back slightly, Sherlock was asleep, head against the back of the sofa. Molly reached up and gently pushed his hair away from his forehead. Then she realised that Sherlock was awake and was watching her. She quickly snatched her hand away and moved back. Sherlock stared at her, a look of desire in his eyes. He put his hands on Molly’s face and stared intensely into her eyes before bringing his mouth down with agonising slowness on to her lips. Molly put her hands on his chest and then slid them up onto his shoulders. They parted and he caressed her lips with his thumb before kissing her again, running his tongue over her lips until Molly opened them. His hands slid to her shoulders pulling her closer towards him and Molly…. winced with pain and drew back slightly. Sherlock immediately stopped and pulled back, a frown on his face. Molly bent her head, biting her lip against the sudden pain in her shoulder. She pulled out of his embrace and turned away from him.

“Molly, did I hurt you?” 

“No.” Molly lied. “I just don’t think this is a good idea.” She got up and walked away but Sherlock caught her arm and turned her towards him. Molly stared at a button on his shirt, she couldn’t look at him. 

“Don’t lie, Molly. Let me see.” Molly looked up at him then and she could already see him trying to work it out in his mind. Molly nodded and he let her go. She turned away and pulled up her jumper and the t-shirt underneath to reveal the huge bruise she had on the back of her shoulder. She heard Sherlock hiss and felt his hand gently touch her shoulder. Molly flinched. 

“Who did this?” Molly looked over her shoulder at him. Although his voice was calm, his face was livid. She shook her head. She saw him glance at her arm and the next minute he was holding it and tracing the finger mark bruises. Without a word he pulled her jumper and t-shirt over her head and tossed them away. He moved round her back to her other arm again finding the bruises. He turned round to face him and she heard the sharp intake of breath as he could see the top of the bruise on her stomach over her trousers. Before she could do anything he had pulled her trousers down slightly to see all of the bruise. Molly put her hands over his and pushed his hands away. She breathed in a sob. Sherlock moved away from her, she could see his hands starting to shake. He took a deep breath.

“I won’t ask again, Molly. Who did this to you?” He was no longer calm but deeply angry.

“It was a patient at Barts. He’s ill, mentally ill. He shook me and then he kicked me in the stomach and punched me on the shoulder.” Molly’s voice was tearful. She picked up her jumper and put it back on needing its warmth.

“And you reported it? Told the police?” Sherlock spun round to face her. Molly shook her head. Sherlock came towards her. “Why didn’t you report it?”

“Because I didn’t want to! I didn’t want anybody to know” Molly suddenly shouted at him. “It’s nobody else’s business. I felt sorry for him. He didn’t know what he was doing, I told Greg there was no point in reporting it. What good would it do? And to be honest I especially didn’t want you to know, Sherlock because I knew you would react like this!” Sherlock’s head jerked back as though she had physically slapped him. His face went white.

“You didn’t want me to know but you told Greg? And that’s why you ran away because of this? Molly I’m disappointed in you. You should have told me. You should have told me first!”

“I didn't run away, I'm having a holiday!” Molly yelled at him. “Greg knew because he was there at the time, he rescued me from him. And why should you be the first to know, it’s none of your business. You always have to bring everything back to you. I’m the one he hurt, Sherlock, it’s quite ironic really, the one time I really needed you and you weren’t there! And you dare to tell me you are disappointed in me!” Molly shook her head furiously, tears falling down her face. 

Sherlock turned away from her. He walked towards the fireplace. Molly watched him, wiping her face on the sleeve of her jumper. She took a deep breath.

“I knew if I told you that you would go after him, beat him up or even worse. Because you’re angry and because you don’t like seeing your friends get hurt. But I don’t want that, Sherlock. Which is why I never intended for you to find out." There was a pause. “Yesterday you said I had to make a decision about my future. Well I’ve decided and I think I need to go as far away from you as I possibly can.” 

Sherlock just stared at her from the fireplace and she saw his face change from being hurt and angry to a cold indifference. "As you wish Molly. I won't trouble you further." And he strode towards the front door, opened it and was gone.

Molly stared at the door and then sank down on the sofa putting her head in her hands. She couldn't believe that she had said all that to him, that she had lost her temper with him. Molly's hands shook. She sat for some time just staring into space and then stood up and went towards the window, looked out. Sherlock was nowhere to be seen. She had no idea where he had gone. She turned round and that was when she noticed that he had left his coat behind. She picked it up and she could see his mobile in the coat pocket. She suddenly felt so alone, so she ran into the bedroom and found her phone in her bag, untouched since the day she had turned it off. She switched it on, moving back into the Living Room, waiting for it to come on. She picked up Sherlock’s coat, and she wrapped it round herself. 

Her phone pinged telling her she had a new message. And it pinged and pinged and pinged……… Molly picked it up, her eyes widening as she realized that she had over a 100 messages. They were from Sherlock and dated from the day she left London to the morning before Sherlock came and they all said the same thing. “I love you”. Over and over and over again. She even had some from John, saying the same thing and then Molly let out a short laugh as the last one from John said. “Those were from Sherlock in case you were worried, his phone has died!” Her laugh died in her throat. 

Sherlock loved her? Molly shook her head, thinking back to earlier. He hadn’t actually said he didn’t mean it when he said I love you to her on the phone, he’d just asked her to forgive him for making her say it. So did he love her? Molly hands trembled, staring at all those messages, saying I love you and she realized she had just thrown it all back in his face. Molly started to cry.

Then her phone rang, it was John. He must have received some delivery messages and realized she had turned her phone back on. Molly picked up straight away.

“John?” she sobbed.

“Molly, you ok?” John sounded worried.

“I'm scared John” Molly whispered.

“What's he done now?” John huffed in exasperation. 

“He's gone John.”

“Do you want me to phone him?”

“He's doesn’t have his phone…. or his coat.”

“Well he won't be far away then.” John reassured her. “Not without his precious phone. Besides it's freezing out.” 

“I told him I didn't want him, that I wanted a new life without him.” Molly whispered.

“Molly are you crying? Perhaps you'd better put me on to speaker phone we don't want you to ruin your phone.” Molly frowned at that but did as he asked. John continued “So you told him you wanted a new life, is that true, do you?”

“No. I really hurt him John. I said some horrible things.”

“He's said horrible things to you in the past. He'll get over it.”

“But that's just it. This is Sherlock we’re talking about, I didn't think I could hurt him, I didn’t think he would care. But his face, it was as though I'd slapped him. And now I’ve turned my phone on and he’s sent me all those messages telling me he loves me and I’ve just been a right cow to him”

“Did he tell you about Sherrinford? What happened?” John asked suddenly, changing the subject.

“Yes. He told me everything”. Molly frowned. 

“I couldn’t believe he was capable of all that emotion. It really was something to see, he really lost it” John sounded awestruck.

“What do you mean?” 

“With the coffin.” There was silence. Molly heard John groan. “He hasn’t told you, has he?” Molly didn’t reply. John’s voice was suddenly a lot softer.

“He went ballistic after Eurus told him there weren’t any bombs in your flat, that you’d both gone through all that for nothing. He destroyed the coffin with his bare hands. He was distraught, I’ve never seen anything like it. He even cried out “I love you” just before he collapsed on the floor.”

Molly suddenly wished John was there in person instead of on the phone. John went on, seeming to realise that Molly was incapable of speech.

“He does love you Molly. Believe me because I know it's hard to believe it. But he loves you and it's tearing him apart because he doesn’t know how to handle it. He sent those messages because he was desperate, even though he knew you’d turned your phone off.”

Molly was so absorbed in what John was saying that she didn’t hear the door opening behind her. Only when a pair of strong arms enfolded her from behind did she realise that Sherlock was back.

“Sherlock!” Molly turned and wrapped her arms firmly round him her tears soaking into his jacket. He held her tightly against him with one arm wrapped around her, he picked her phone up from the counter.

“John.” Sherlock’s voice vibrated through his chest. Molly tightened her hold.

“Sherlock? You ok?”

“I’m fine. Look I’ll phone you back later but John…… Thank you. Excellent idea.” Sherlock put the phone back down on the counter. Molly was thinking about his last comment and suddenly realised why John had asked her to put him on speaker phone. He knew Sherlock would be listening somewhere and he wanted him to hear his side of the conversation. Molly felt Sherlock’s other arm come round her and he pulled her more tightly against his chest. He kissed the top of her head.

“You’re wearing my coat” He rumbled. Molly looked up at him. “Are you wearing anything underneath?” Molly eyes widened with shock, she bit her lip and then slowly smiled.

“Why don’t you find out?” She whispered.

“STILL ON THE PHONE!!” John yelled. Sherlock and Molly jumped at John’s voice and Sherlock was quick to pick up Molly’s phone, with a quick sorry to John, he hung up and put his arm back round Molly. She didn’t want to let him go and as if he sensed that he picked her up and settled them both on the sofa, Molly sat on his lap, head on his chest. She still held him tightly.

“I’m sorry, Molly. You were right, it is none of my business. But the thought of somebody hurting you, fills me with rage. Can you forgive me?” He brushed the hair off of her face.

“You’ve got nothing to ask forgiveness for. It was my fault, I shouted at you but it’s because I’m tired and stressed out more than anything you’ve done.” Molly started to cry again. “I don’t want to leave you Sherlock. You didn’t tell Mycroft that I wanted to leave, did you?”

“No. I know you didn’t mean it, Molly. You’ve done so much for us, John, Rosie and me. You have been there for us when we needed you, but it’s worn you out and the last few days have made it worse.” He tilted her head up. “May I kiss you?” he muttered. Molly nodded. He brought his head down and kissed her, long and deep. Then Molly’s tummy rumbled. They broke apart, giggling.

“God I’m starving” Molly exclaimed. “It’s ages since we had breakfast.” Molly didn’t want to get up though. She didn’t want to let go of him. Sherlock hummed and then rummaged in the pocket of his coat that Molly was wearing to find his phone. He put it to his ear.

“Mycroft? Food for two please.” Molly could hear Mycroft complaining, Sherlock rolled his eyes at her and she grinned. “Oh please, I know you’ve got one of your minions spying on me. There must be a fish shop close by. Call it payment for the entertainment I gave them earlier when I slipped up outside the window. Thank you.” Sherlock ended the call and tossed his phone on the sofa. He grinned at Molly.

“Why are you wearing my coat?” He questioned. 

“Your phone was in it. I knew you wouldn’t go far without your precious phone. So I thought if I wore your coat you couldn’t sneak in and grab it while I wasn’t there.” Molly sniffed.

“My coat still has the most precious thing in it.” He murmured, kissing her forehead. “You.” He kissed her again and Molly happily kissed him back, finally loosening her hold on him to wrap her hands round his neck to pull him closer. They finally came up for air and Molly got up and took his coat off. 

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’ve still got clothes on.” Molly teased. Sherlock’s eyes darkened and he held his arms out to her. She sat back on his lap. Sherlock went to kiss her again but she put her finger on his lips.

“I love you, Sherlock.” She kissed him briefly on the lips. 

“I love you too, Molly.” Molly hummed happily at him and kissed him again and again.

\------------------------  
The sound of rain woke Molly up the next day. She sighed and stretched. She turned her head to see Sherlock snuggled against her back, still sleeping, his breath tickling the back of her neck, his hair ruffled where she had ran her fingers through it. 

Molly's breath caught as she thought about last night. They’d laughed and joked together while they ate their chips. They’d watched telly for a bit. Then they’d gone to bed and Sherlock had firmly pulled her into his arms and they fell asleep entwined together. Molly had woken up to find Sherlock trembling and moaning in his sleep. She'd woken him up and held him tight until he’d stopped trembling. She felt privileged that he trusted her enough to let her see how vulnerable he was and her heart broke for him when he told her that he’d had bad dreams since that day at Sherrinford. And then they’d made love to each other slowly and passionately and it had been perfect.

Sherlock stirred and moved his arm that was around Molly’s waist. He pulled her in tighter to him and his lips kissed the back of her neck. Molly giggled as it tickled.

“Morning Miss Hooper” His deep baritone voice rumbled against her neck. Molly turned round and stroked the hair off his face.

“Morning. Mr Holmes”. Sherlock smiled at her so she kissed him and then snuggled down against his chest. 

“What shall we do today?” Sherlock asked. Molly looked up at him and he raised his eyebrows suggestively. Molly smiled.

“That would be nice. But later I think I’d rather like to go home” She felt Sherlock stiffen and she moved back to look properly into his face. Sherlock took her hand in his.

“You know you can’t go back to your flat, Molly. I know…..”

“No! I mean your home, Baker Street.” Molly was mortified that she had called it her home and also a bit upset because she’d been calling Baker Street home in her head all night… but it wasn’t her home, it was Sherlock’s. She turned away from him, pulling her hand free and sitting on the edge of the bed. She felt Sherlock move towards her and sitting next to her on the bed, he put his arm round her. She could tell he didn’t understand why she was upset. 

“Molly? We can go to Baker Street if you want.” Sherlock paused and then said heavily. “But I want you to go there because you want to be with me, living and loving with me. I don’t know if I have the right to ask that of you, Molly. I don’t know if I can be who you want me to be, all I know is that I can’t be without you anymore. All these years I’ve tried to protect you, keep you under the radar so you wouldn’t get hurt. It would be safer for you though, if you just walked away”. Sherlock bent his head, she could tell he was close to tears. She wrapped her arms round him.

“Sherlock you are who I want you to be. That’s all you need to be and I choose you, whatever state you’re in, whatever trouble you’re in, come what may. I always have done and I always will. It won’t be easy and we will argue over stupid things like everybody in a relationship does. We just need time. So I’d like to go home, to Baker Street, if you’ll have me?” Molly looked uncertainly up at Sherlock. He smiled down at her and then kissed her gently.

“I love you Molly Hooper and yes let’s go home to Baker Street.” Sherlock paused. “But first I’d like to have my wicked way with you, if that’s alright.”

“Mr Holmes, what are you suggesting?” Molly laughed and then squealed as Sherlock pushed her back against the bed, kissing her soundly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love John Watson. I think he is a great friend to Sherlock and also to Molly. And he tries his best to help them.
> 
> And yes Sherlock does shout 'I love you' after smashing the coffin to pieces. It is drowned out by the music. I took out the music on my dvd version and you can definitely hear it. It is canon when something is there but the music drowns it out?
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this one, now onto the next!


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